


Making Waves

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [33]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Community: kink_bingo, Danger, Established Relationship, Flirting, Jealousy, M/M, OFC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint flirts with a junior agent, and with danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Danger

Clint had always been the focus of a certain amount of... attention by some of his co-workers at SHIELD. At the range when he was shooting, in the gym while he was working out or sparring, and occasionally in the lounge when he was sitting around in a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of jeans that had almost more holes than fabric left to hold the holes together, he was regularly ogled and occasionally propositioned.

Back when he first started at SHIELD, he used to court some of the attention that came his way, especially from some of the attractive junior agents. He very quickly learned why office romances (or office one-night-stands) could be very awkward, and stopped doing it quite so much, and when he did, he made a point of sticking to people way, way outside his department. 

After he and Phil started dating, the offers slowed down. A lot. And the ones he still got started coming almost exclusively from female junior agents who either a) didn't believe he was with Phil (to be fair, juniors got their chains yanked an awful lot, so it was hard for them to know what to believe at first) or b) didn't believe he could be 'satisfied with a middle-aged paper-pusher when you could have this.' That sort of offer was usually accented by a pair of boobs being shoved into his face. 

Junior Agent Cathy Anderson was a little more subtle than that, but very persistent. She'd followed him around for days, showing up in the gym and at the range and at the commissary whenever Clint was there. She'd ignored his careful explanation that he was in a relationship and unavailable, and had started hanging around wherever he was, making excuses to get as close to him as possible, and touching him in that way that's supposed to seem friendly, but is really a come-on. 

The first time it happened, Clint ignored it. The second time, he was polite. The third time... the third time he got an idea. A very, very bad idea, as it turned out...

Clint was in the cafeteria, sitting at a table with his lunch and waiting for Phil. Anderson spotted him and made a beeline towards his table, just as Phil turned from paying for his food and started to head towards him. Or them, as it was because Anderson was already posed coquettishly at his side, asking why 'SHIELD's Number One Hunk' was eating lunch alone.

And in the half-second between catching Phil's eye and politely telling Anderson to please go away, he had an idea. He could make Phil a little bit jealous. He could make it seem like he wasn't upset by Anderson's advances, like maybe he wasn't going to turn her down. Phil would see them together and... what would he do? Would he step in and tell Anderson that Clint was 'taken'? Or would he just give her that cold stare that had most junior agents cringing. Maybe Phil would be more subtle, maybe he would just put his hand over Clint's on the lunchroom table, making it clear that Clint was his. Maybe he'd ask Clint about it later, in his office, and Clint could get Phil to admit that he'd been jealous when he saw Anderson flirting with him...

So Clint smiled at Anderson and patted her arm in a friendly way and said, "Sorry, I have to eat with my boss, but maybe I'll catch you later?" And Anderson had smiled a sexy smile, and stroked his shoulder, and Clint had smiled back and watched her as she turned and left, wiggling her ass as she went.

"What was that about?" Phil asked as he sat down opposite Clint.

"Oh, nothing, she was just saying 'hi'." Clint answered, finally turning his attention back to Phil and looking for any signs of jealousy. Phil looked quickly down at his tray and started to pick at his food.

'Maybe I should fess up.' Clint thought, 'Maybe this isn't such a good idea, after all. Maybe Phil will get mad. He doesn't seem mad. He doesn't seem anything. Maybe he didn't even notice.' 

They chatted and ate lunch as usual, and though Phil seemed a little distracted and not very hungry, that wasn't unusual enough for Clint to get worried. Phil wiped his face on a napkin and dropped it onto his tray, on top of his half-eaten lunch. Just before he got up to leave, he asked,

"Are you free tonight?" Which is what he would usually say right before he invited Clint over to his apartment for the night.

And instead of saying, "Yes, absolutely," the way he always did, this time Clint said,

"I think so. Can I get back to you later?"

"Sure..." Phil said, and it looked like he was about to say something else, but changed his mind. "Later," he said and left.

Clint started to wonder again. What had made him decide to start to play this stupid game with Phil? Phil loved him, and he loved Phil, and the last thing he wanted to do was fuck that up. Because screwing up the best thing that ever happened to him would be... Clint shook that idea out of his head. This wasn't going to fuck it up, it was just... just that it would be cool if Phil got a little jealous and a little possessive or maybe just a little bit mad. If Phil admitted he didn't want Clint looking at other people, that he wanted Clint all for himself... 

Clint was still turning it over in his head three hours later when he checked in at the range for his usual afternoon practice session. For an hour, everything went out of his head except his work. The bow and the gun, the targets. The sights, his stance, his muscles flexing and his breathing steady. The smooth rhythm of the nock, draw, and release. The smell of gun oil and cordite and the wax he used on his bowstring. He worked through his usual routine: 18 rounds with the standard-issue Glock, one clip each left handed and right handed; another 18 with his P30, left and right again. Then he took out his bow, and fired 50 regular arrows, and 20 arrows he'd had the tech department make for him specially, they were the same weight and shape as the exploding arrows he often used, but were duds, like the dummy hand grenades they used to teach junior agents to throw the damn things properly. This way he could practice without blowing things up. Though on a day like today, maybe blowing something up wouldn't be all that bad an idea...

Clint cleared his head. It wasn't often that day-to-day worries intruded when he was shooting, even when he was switching gear between sets but today his mind kept drifting back to the scene in the cafeteria, wondering if he had done something really stupid, something... dangerous.

Clint finished shooting the last few arrows in his quiver and started to wipe down and pack up his gear. When he looked up he wasn't the least bit surprised to see Junior Agent Anderson two lanes down from him, practicing with a standard-issue Glock 19.

"Oh, Agent Barton," she said, catching his eye, "Maybe you could help me with my stance, I seem to be having trouble with my headshots." 

Clint was about to brush her off, but he saw Phil come into the range, a thick folder of paperwork in his hand, heading for the range master’s office.

"Sure thing," Clint said, leaving his gear on the table and stepping over to her lane, "what seems to be the trouble?"

Clint stepped up close behind her and put one hand on a curvy hip, just as Phil walked past them. 

'He's got to do something now,' thought Clint as his mind filled with images of Phil grabbing him by the collar and demanding to know what the hell he was doing. Phil dragging him out of the range to his office and getting in his face, only to start kissing him furiously. Phil saying, 'You're mine, Clint, don't ever forget that.'

But nothing happened. Phil walked right by with barely a glance and straight into the range master's office. Where he proceeded to spend 10 minutes going over the paperwork in the folder while Clint 'helped' Anderson adjust her stance and her grip by being plastered against her body. Even with Clint's guidance, she was a terrible shot, tensing up before she pulled the trigger and unable to hold the gun steady in her hands for even a fraction of a second.

Phil came back out of the range master's office and Clint lowered his gaze just enough to hide the fact that he was watching. Phil did the same as he passed, but Clint could see Phil's face and looked carefully for any sign of jealousy or anger. He didn't see them. What he saw instead made his heart lurch... Phil looked... sad.

'Shit. This was a stupid idea. A really, really stupid idea. I need to go 'fess up and apologize to him right now.' Clint turned away from Anderson as Phil left the range, door swinging shut behind him. Clint hurriedly took his gear back to check it in, but as he was turning to leave the range master intercepted him,

"Barton, glad I caught you - I'd really appreciate your input on this new setup that Agent Coulson has proposed. It looks pretty good, but since you use so many different weapons, I'd really like you to check it over."

"Uh, sure, I'd love to, some other time, right now I need to..."

"It'll just take a few minutes, and Agent Coulson asked for my feedback on this proposal by this afternoon. I'd really appreciate your help."

"Um, sure. I guess."

Phil would still be in his office later, Clint could catch up with him then. In fact, that was a better idea - wait until later, after the work day had ended and most people had gone home, then he and Phil could have a long talk un-interrupted and he could apologize for being a jackass and then maybe they'd go back to Phil's place and have make-up sex. Clint had never been in a relationship where fights got resolved enough for there to be make-up sex afterwards, but he had heard it was great.

So he turned and followed the range master into his office, and spent the next 45 minutes going over a design that Phil had obviously been working on for some time, taking all of Clint's off-hand comments and remarks about how to improve the range into consideration, and adding his own ideas for improvements.

When he finally managed to leave, Clint raced to Phil's office. Only to find it locked. Jasper Sitwell was passing by, so Clint asked him,

"Hey, have you seen Coulson?"

"Yeah, he left about an hour ago - said he wasn't feeling well or something."

Clint wasn't feeling so well himself any more. Was Phil really sick, or was he upset with Clint? Was he avoiding Clint? Was he mad, really angry? 

'Shit. What have I done?' Not bothering to shower or change, Clint headed out of the building. Once he hit the city streets, however, his pace slowed.

'What if he's really mad at me? I mean really mad? What if...?' Clint shook his head, refusing to let his thoughts carry him towards a worst-case scenario. 'I love him and he loves me. I did something dumb, and I'm sorry. All I have to do is go over to his place and tell him that, and then everything will be OK.'

With more confidence than he actually felt, Clint headed towards Phil's apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my excellent editors t! and Shazrolane.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
